I'm ready
by Lanceletta
Summary: Molly had been waiting for so long, now it's Sherlock's turn to do something if he doesn't want to lose her. And he doesn't. Reviews would make me happy.
1. Chapter 1

**HI dears, here is another shortie, though it will be two or three chapters. Please let me know what you think, I love to get any kind of feedback. **

_**I'm ready**_

_**To love you.**_

_**I'm ready**_

_**To hold you.**_

_**Bryan Adams**_

_**This song had been inspired me to write this story, I love it. It's so simple but so true and beautiful. Check it if you didn't know it yet.**_

**So, I hope you will enjoy.**

The loud clattering forced Sherlock Holmes retrieving from his mind palace came from the coffee table where Molly Hooper smashed down the keys of 221B Baker Street. Sherlock had been storing all the data came up during the Moriarty case. Since the said madman appeared on every screen in England Molly for her own safety had been living in Baker Street, occupying John's old room.  
'Are you leaving?' He blinked a few with a frown in confusion. Two days prior the Moriarty case had been closed by the death of him caused by an accurate shot from one of Mycroft's MI5 agents.  
'Great deduction.' Molly snapped loudly then closed her eyes for a moment, and sighed. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to...to be so...harsh.'  
'Why?' Sherlock stood up as he turned all his attention towards his pathologist.  
'God, Sherlock! Are you serious?' Molly frowned in disbelief.  
'Because you kissed me the day before yesterday?'  
'What? _I _kissed you? Hahh.' Molly huffed. 'If I had such courage in me I would have done it years ago!'

.'

_Two days ago_

_Sherlock was pacing up and down in his living room. The Moriarty case had reached a dead point a week prior, and nothing has seemed to move since then. He had been like a lion in a cage. The threatening presence of his archenemy in the life of him and who he cared for was driving him crazy. Last time he confronted Moriarty his friend were targets of gunmen and he had to disappear for two years. Although he secretly considered hunting down the criminal network as a large and heroic gesture, he had no intention to repeat anything similar to that. Sherlock wanted this whole thing to be over, he wanted to end this maddening game quickly. But for now he had nothing to do but wait. He huffed in frustration and wished John still lived there so he could steal his gun to add further decoration on the flowery wallpaper. His phone's buzzing was what pulled him out of his desperate state. _

_**2 am in your home from home. Be on time, honey. JM**_

_And that was it. Not a sign or a trace, but something he didn't really expected. An straightforward calling out. Sherlock took in a quick breath with wide eyes as he looked at the time on his phone. It was almost midnight. He had to be on time, not too early, not too late. So he still had an hour and forty one minutes till he had to leave Baker Street. Enough to organize everything. _

_When Sherlock silently pushed down the handle of the door to John's old bedroom it was already half past 1am. At the light came through the half closed doorway he saw Molly's tiny frame spreading across the large bed. To the creek of the floor under his feet the pathologist stirred and in a dreamy voice she asked._

'_Sherlock? What's the matter?' she half set up supporting on her elbowss as the detective occupied the edge of the bed beside her. He cleared his throat before began to speak with straight back not looking at her._

'_Molly, Moriarty came out. He wants to meet me. Now. Lestrade and three of Mycroft's men come here in case if it's only a trick to get to you. Although I doubt that.' He stopped and dropped his head ruffling his hair. Molly frowned. She had never seen him so lost, not even the night before his faked suicide, but didn't' say a word letting him to speak if he needed to and she set up fully._

'_There is a minor possibility…no.' He closed his eyes and sighed. 'There is a major possibility that I won't survive this time. He had been preparing for this for years, he is capable of everything, so…' He shrugged with a weak, fake smile turning to face her. Molly was listening and watching him with wide teary eyes, her mouth was moving without a sound. 'I have to end this.'_

'_I know.' She whispered wiping the tears from her cheek with the back of her hand. 'I know.'_

_And this was the moment when he saw Molly as really who she was for him. The woman who had understood and loved him unconditionally for years, though there was no one who knew better that he had never done anything to gain or deserve it. But she still had loved him. Something that he would never be able to do._

_Sherlock turned towards her with his whole upper body and looked into her eyes before placed one hand on the back of her head and bent down to push his lips to hers with a lingering, close-eyed kiss. A few moments later he pulled away and opened his eyes to look at Molly's shaking hands resting in her lap. He took one and lifted to his lips kissing her palm, dwelling on the soft sensation with strongly closed eyes. The moment disappeared as he stood up without further words and walked out of the room, never looking back._

Sherlock stood there clearly uncomfortable lifting from one foot to the other.

'So since you've returned you have been clearly avoiding me, which is quite a complicated task to tell the truth as we live under the same roof. I've decided to ease your inconvenience and move out.' Molly sighed. 'You know how I feel, I probably will never feel any other way, all you have to figure out is how you feel, but I can't assist to that anymore. Do you have anything to say? Anything?' She waited for a few seconds but only got quick blinking with slightly opened mouth from Sherlock. 'I tought so.' Sherlock only dropped his eyes onto her shoes. She gulped and said in a husky voice. 'Thank you for everything. Goodbye, Sherlock Holmes.' She nodded with a nervous smile and left the flat leaving a stunned detective behind, still staring at the place Molly had been moments before.

...

'Okay, Mike. Now you can tell me where Molly is.' Sherlock hadn't been at Bart's in the last two weeks. He used his time to think, to dig deep in himself and to decide. He got to the conclusion that he missed Molly, and with every day that feeling bounded a bigger and bigger knot in his inward. When the sensation became unbearable, and the only thing he was constantly seeing, not depending on if he was awake or asleep was Molly in front of him, kissing him, run her palm on his cheeks with her warm smile and he made a decision.

'Molly is not here, Sherlock, sorry. She had resigned from Bart's two weeks ago. She said she was going to travel. But I can help you.' Mike smiled apologetically. Sherlock frowned in frustration and shortly said.  
'Hardly.' And with that he whirled around and stormed out from the lab.

There was only one place Sherlock could think about Molly would go. He went back to Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes had to pack.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi dear Readers, **

**Thank you all the nice words and the not extremely nice ones as well. **** (dear Guest, I don't think I will ever make that mistake again.) And thank you for all the follows and favourites. I can't tell how happy I am when I see that somebody made the effort to feedback. As English not being my first language it makes me extra happy to get some kind words from you, really, thanks.**

_**Love**_

_**When the breeze is flitting the veil**_

_**Not the breeze, not the veil. The flitting.**_

_**Akos Fodor**_

**It's a haiku I tried to translate to you and hopefully didn't fail entirely. It' so beautiful. I find it fitting to this chapter.**

As Sherlock took off white crash-helmet in front of the big two floored tuft farmhouse not far from a small village in Tuscany somewhere near Montepulciano. It was more than hot, the sun was on its highest point and the long trees on the opposite hill seemed to be waving in the heat. He ruffled his sweaty hair and dusted his trousers and white shirt after the long ride on the dry dirt road. He sighed with his lips pushed together and stepped to the front door to knock on it. He heard the tough steps from behind the door and gulping hardly straightened himself putting on his most charming smile. The door opened to reveal a stately elderly woman standing in front of him dropping her wide smile as she recognised the visitor.

'Tu?' _(You?)_

Just as Sherlock took a deep breath to speak the door was clashed to his face unceremoniously. He stood there stunned, considering repeating the knocking when after loud shouting between the old woman and somebody else heard from inside, a young, tanned faced man opened the door smiling apologetically. 

'I am sorry, signore. Nonna _(granny)_ is a little bit warm tempered. I am Daniele. Please come in.' He gestured towards the inside of the house with a wide smile. Sherlock nodded and stepped forward as he started to speak. 

'I am...' But he was interrupted by Daniele in a bit colder tone. 

'I know who you are, signore. Come in.' He nodded not feeling necessary speak further.

Sherlock entered the semi darkened house and followed the young man across the whole building. He wore dirty white shirt with rolled up sleeves, turned up collar and dark green stuff trousers with dark red stains on them. He had been obviously occupied with wine. The house was old but well kept holding a typical raw scent of a farm house, the furnishing was rather practical then pretty, but it was a seemingly comfortable warm home for a huge family for at least five generations back. The windows were mostly darkened by long heavy curtains keeping out the warmth of the noon sun. As they passed the old wooden kitchen Sherlock saw _Nonna_ doing the washing up frantically with loud clattering, murmuring in front of herself. All he could hear was a few words but it was quite obvious that she was referring to him. 

'...questo bastardo...mia cara nipote...uomi Englesi sono bastardi…io ho detto ancora…' _(that bastard…my dear grandchild…English men are bastards…I've already told…)_

They reached the back-door when Daniele stopped and turned towards Sherlock with a now tough expression instead of his previous cheerful one. 'I know she loves you, signore, but if you ever make her cry again, I will give you some very painful moments.' Sherlock was trying to suppress a grin, as if this young Italian farmer could cause him any harm when the other added. 'I have a huge family and a lot of friends, Sherlock Holmes.' The smile somehow faded away from Sherlock's face and felt he swallow hard while nodding.

'I consider myself warned...?' He raised one eyebrow slightly turning his head. This seemingly pleased Daniele and he gestured toward a small path leading into the depth of the rich Tuscan garden of olive trees. Sherlock straightened himself and easily stepped down the few stairs leading to the ground from the large roofed terrace.

As he was walking between the ancient, gnarled plants he felt completely out of place and was wondering if Molly felt the same way.

But as he reached a small clearing after a short walk, he saw Molly, his Molly between the freshly washed large white sheets hanging another one on the string outspreaded between the trees. She was wearing an equally white long light strapless dress, her hair was in a loose bum, the curly lower mops of hair still dump from the bath she had just taken. Her bare feet were almost hided under the long dress but they were occasionally exposed while she was lightly dancing to her own silent humming. Her skin got tanned, thin blonde stripes appeared in her nut brown hair above her forehead from the sun. She definitely wasn't out of this place.

Sherlock was watching Molly, the moment was harden into stone not wanting to move. He felt his blood pumping in his ears loudly, his heart was banging in his chest. He was about to do something he had never done, something he had never wanted to do, something was very not him, but apparently he couldn't be himself without Molly Hooper either anymore.

As a stronger breeze flitted one of the wide bright canvas Molly saw the tall, dark haired man behind it for a short moment. Doubting her vision she dropped the next linen back to the basket and with wide eyes and dry mouth she carefully took her steps to the direction of the said sheet to pull it away and make sure that the sight of Sherlock was not her imagination again. As she grabbed the edge of the material she found herself looking into the green blue eyes of Sherlock Holmes who was also trying to get to the other side of the laundry. They stared at each other for a short minute, so close, Molly could hear his heavy breathing, their hands were almost touching.

'You are here...' she whispered in a small voice.

'Yes, I am.' he answered in a low voice, his eyes dropped from her eyes to her mouth for a moment.

'You've found me.'

'You knew I would.' He whispered in his deep baritone.

'I hoped so.' A hint of warm smile appeared on her face. This gave Sherlock the courage to bent down and kiss her gently pushing away the sheet completely and stepping forward to put both his palm on each side of Molly's head while her hands was wandering to his neck and into his curls.

'So, do you have anything to say?' She asked trying to catch her breath and searching his face with a serious expression.

'Yes.' He gulped and cleared his throat. 'I'm ready, I'm ready...to love you.'

'Good, good.' Molly nodded smiling widely and pressed her mouth to his, strongly folding her arms around his neck while Sherlock embraced her waist lifting her slightly with his strong arms.

_**I hope you liked it. Please let me know. I hope my Italian is not disastrous. **_

_**I am still planning to write one more chapter, if you are interested.**_

_**Be good, till next time.**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello dear Readers,**

**Here is the promised third chapter, though the story grew itself hence there will be one or two more. Hope you will enjoy. Sorry for the errors, I tried to be quick.**

* * *

Next morning the sun's first beams found them in each other's arms in Molly's bed.

'Hmm,' she was humming while stretching. 'Good morning.' Molly smiled as she turned to the already awake Sherlock, pressed herself against his body and gave him a long, loving kiss.

'Good morning.' he chuckled at the naturalness of them waking up together.

'I'm starving. Let's have breakfast. I'm sure Nonna made you some Tuscan specialities.

'Well, if you mean, she had been preparing to kick my ass out of this house in a traditional Tuscan way, I am sure too. She hates me. Can't we have our breakfast here, in bed?' Sherlock tried his puppy eyes.

'You are afraid of her?'

'What? No-o. Of course not.' Sherlock frowned with a nervous smile.

'Yes you are.' Molly was grinning uncontrollably poking at his chest. 'Listen, when my mom was seventeen, my dad came here to work on the farm during the summer and they fell in love. The next two summers my dad came back to work for months, and on the third one he proposed to my mum, who said yes. They moved to England leaving my grandmother without a daughter but with four sons. Nonna always felt that my dad had stolen her only girl from her. Of course she forgave him after I was born, and I spent here almost every summer. But you know...she has her revulsions, but she has a wonderful heart.'

Sherlock nodded thoughtfully. 'So...you say the only way to make her like me is to procreate a child?' he asked with narrowed eyes arching one brow.

'What? That wasn't what I was meaning.' Molly' eyes gone wide in shock, but Sherlock's chuckle made her release the breath she was holding and sulkily put out her tongue. This amused Sherlock more and he started to laugh and between two titters he pressed a loving kiss on Molly's forehead.

'I really should eat something so I don't care if you are too scared to go down to the kitchen, but I will.' With that Molly jumped out of the bed with a sheet around her small frame and with overacted grace, holding her chin high she marched into the bathroom and locked the door. Sherlock didn't need to get more invitation than a locked door. He got out of the bed too, only he didn't bother with the sheet and grabbing one of Molly's barrette from the bedside table he picked the lock to join Molly in the shower.

'Oh, you are here.' Molly jumped as she blinked through her wet lashes.

'You knew I would come.' Sherlock smiled contently as he slipped his arms around Molly's waist stepping closer.

'I hoped so,' breathed Molly before his mouth captured her own.

At the end Sherlock could convince Molly that launch was a perfectly adequate as first meal of the day and when they finally wandered down the stairs the whole family had already flocked together to eat.

As they were walking towards them, six women and ten men, Sherlock quickly observed the people gathering around the long dinner table on the terrace under the arbour of red grapes. The major part of the family didn't live there, but in one of the smaller villages in the surrounding country, but they all worked in the family business being run from _Nonna_'s farmhouse. According to their clothes and the fact that all of them did physical work around the house it was not a huge business, just big enough to keep them in a moderately good financial state. The people were cheerful, constantly chatting over each other's head, shouting to the other sitting on the other end of the table.

As they saw approaching the pair of them the loud talking stopped almost immediately, and Sherlock felt everybody's observing stare on himself. _So that was it like_, he tought with a low chuckle. He straightened himself and continued walking to have a seat following Molly who sat down next to Daniele. Sherlock other neighbour was a strongly constituted balding older man, apparently one of Molly's uncles, Daniele's father deduced from the facial similarities. He turned his head and silently nodded with a huff narrowing his eyes before he continued eating the _antipasti_.

As Sherlock accommodated himself under the attention which was getting more and more uncomfortable for him, the chatting suddenly went on as nothing had interrupted it. From then seemingly nobody was in particularly interested in him, but now and then he saw them looking at him from the corner of his eye.

When a few minutes later all the women including Molly disappeared in the kitchen to help bringing out the food, all the remained men's faces turned towards him. One of the four uncles, the oldest, started to speak in Italian, and Daniele possessing the best knowledge of English began to translate.

'They want to know what your real job is.' Sherlock took his glass and sipped from the water before putting it back slowly on the white tablecloth.

'Ho capito il questione completamente.' _(I understood the question completely.) _He seriously nodded towards the uncle. Just as he took a deep breath to answer the actual question all the men cheered and shouted loudly, and jumped up from their seats, all trying to shake his hand or pat his shoulder in the same time.

When Molly came out from the kitchen with a bowl full of meat in her hands she saw the strangest sight in front of her. Sherlock Holmes was surrounded by a lot of happy, smiling cheerfully chatting people. She almost dropped the bowl before putting it down on the table and quickly shoved herself to her seat.

'What did you tell them?' Molly asked in suspicion.

'Nothing,' he whispered with arched brows.

'Ahhh, that's why.' Molly nodded knowingly.

'What?' Sherlock frowned. 'I've just revealed my knowledge of the Italian language.' He shrugged.

'Do you speak Italian?' Molly was shocked then turned red remembering the phone call she recieved in Sherlock's presence from one of her Italian cousins a few years back, when she discussed how hot was Sherlock's bum in his new pants in Italian. His sly, knowing grin didn't helped at all. When she looked at him with embarrassment her blush deepened even more.

When Nonna finally arrived to the table all the others were settled down, relatively calm. They prayed silently then they started to eat producing cheerful, appreciative noises. The only one who was unusually silent was Molly's grandma.

She was just eating slowly and eyeing her grandchild and the strange Englese. Nonna knew exactly how many tears had fallen for this man till finally he got to his senses. Her heart clenched looking back at the years she was listening to this dear ragazza's sobbing over the phone. But now Molly looked so happy next to him staring at each other lovingly when they tought nobody was looking. Maybe it was not a good idea that in the morning...

'I invited Francesco for dinner.' She heard her own husky voice as she blurted out the sentence.  
The fork stopped in Molly's hand.

'You did what?' She asked silently. Fortunately everybody else was engaged in a conversation so nobody hear the two of them except Sherlock who was listening with a furrow between his brows.

'I invited Francesco Coricelli for dinner tonight. I met him and his mother at the market.'  
Molly became white and shakily hissed, 'This was really unnecessary, Nonna.' There was no other word of the topic, precisely there was no other word from Molly at all during launch.

As the men and the women went back to their work, except one of Molly's cousins, Elena, Nonna excused herself to have a nap referring to her age. The three of them stayed to clean the table. Well Sherlock being Sherlock walked to the edge of the terrace and lighted the cigarette with a lighter, both snitched from one of the uncles during the celebration over his command of Italian.

As Molly and Elena were doing the washing up, the girls were had a little time to chat a bit.

'Well, he does have a nice butt.' Elena winked at her cousin.

'Just off your eyes!' Molly poked the other woman's shoulder with a playful smile. 'Anyway, you are married.'

'Oh, yes, sometimes I forgot it.' Elena sighed sadly and quickly changed the subject. 'I can't believe she asked Francesco to dinner. Sometimes she is so bull-headed.'

The corner of Molly's smile flinched at the thought and murmured, 'Yes, I just have to survive the evening.' She sighed and putting down the last clean plate onto the dryer she turned and leaned back to the counter next to Elena. 'I know she wants the best for me, she just doesn't want to understand that my life is not here and not with Francesco.'

'You are her favourite, you know,' Elena said with faked ignorance.

'Just because I am not here.' Molly sighed and uncomfortable silence took its place between them. As they were standing there Molly was watching Sherlock who had finished his cigarette and easily jumped down from the terrace turning up the sleeves of his white shirt, and was walking towards Daniele, who was occupied with loading up the truck with barrels.

'Nonna is just missing my Mum. Me too, but I'm not her.' Molly swallowed hard and looked at her hands in her lap, losing both her parents was still so painful after all these years.

'I'm sorry Molly,' said Elena and hugged her tightly, holding her to comfort. 'But he really has nice butt.' They chuckled in each other's arms and getting back their light mood they agreed to drink a glass of wine as a preparation for the evening.

* * *

**I like Nonna and the family so I decided to get to know them better. I have a small family, but hubby has a huge one. They have a temper but they are so nice and loving and they greet the new members kindly, so my intention was to draw Molly's Italian family like this. Did you like them? **

**In next chapter we will get to know this Francesco. I'm still not sure about his personality yet, but I already know who he is.**

**Let me know your opinion about anything.**

**Be well,**

**Lanceletta**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi lovelies, sorry for the delay. Thanks for all the support you gave me through this story, it means a lot, every following and favouriting not to mention the reviews which are the best things. **

**I know I promised to meet Francesco but somehow this 'shortie' grew itself and became a huge, long, romantic monster. So another chapter will be after this. I hope you will enjoy this one. Please let me know.**

**Btw I have a quite new story 'Just human' check it if you want. It's a bit different, but still Sherlolly. It's my sweet little baby, so take a chance on it. **

...

When Elena got a phone call, she excused herself and left Molly alone on the terrace. She was watching as the shadows began to stretch on the floor when Sherlock finally returned from helping Daniele. His hair and his shirt were wet after the freshing up he had before. He stopped as he stepped up to the edge of the terrace and leaned against one of the pillars with his hands in his pockets and looked at Molly.

'I need a shower.' he said after a while coldly, turned on his heels and walked towards the stairs leaving a confused Molly behind. She was just about to follow him, when Nonna appeared in the kitchen doorway. She smoothed the wrinkles on her dark blue skirt and looked at Molly.

'Do you really love him? After all the things he had done to you?' she asked shaking her head in disbelief.

Molly closed her eyes and winced, expecting again the speech about how good husbands were Italian men, especially how great Francesco would be, and that Molly should forget about that rude Englishman. So she was surprised hearing something different.

'I saw him helping Daniele with the barrels. He is not a typical spoiled English boy, is he?' Nonna let herself a small playful smile as she sat down next to her grandchildren patting her knee like she used to when Molly was a child.

Molly chuckled. 'Oh, he is, believe me. But he is so many other things too.' Her face become serious. 'And yes, Nonna, I love Sherlock. And nothing can change this, not even him.' Molly smiled towards the stairs.

'Well, then, who am I to interfere.' Nona shrugged and smoothed her grey feather back onto the top of her hair.

Molly raised one eyebrow questioningly looking turning to her. Nonna sighed and was clear that she made a huge effort to tell what she did. ' Probably it wasn't a good idea to invite Francesco.'

'Hmm, it certainly wasn't.' Molly sighed.

'Now let's peel some potato for the dinner.' Nonna suddenly but not surprisingly changed the subject. She really wasn't a woman of apologies and definitely hated to be wrong. Molly was wondering if Sherlock and Nonna would ever be able to stand each other as they were quite similar in a few things but only sighed nodded.'

'Let's do it.'

After helping Nona with the dinner Molly went to her room to shower and change into something for the evening. She had expected Sherlock searching for her during the afternoon and was disappointed that he hadn't but shook down the bad feelings and opened the creaky door.

Sherlock was lying on the duvet with his hands is under his chin eyes closed, in his thinking mode.

'I'm going back tomorrow,' he stated with calm coldness without looking at Molly.

'Is it a case?' Molly tried to sound cheerful though she felt something was wrong.

'Nope.' Silence took its place.

'Okay.' Molly frowned and was waiting for explanation but it didn't come.

She frowned in confusion and walked to him. 'Sherlock? What's wrong?' She reached out to put her fingers among his dark curls. Sherlock stiffened but didn't draw away.

'Nothing. Everything is fffine.' His smile was wide and oh so very fake. Molly knew that grin, so very well.

'Okay. Could we talk about it after dinner?' She drawn away and started to get off her clothes.

'I'm not hungry.' Sherlock answered sulkily.

'You should come anyway. You would meet ...'

'...Francesco. Yes I know. Bloody fantastic.' He interrupted rolling his eyes.

'No... Actually I was trying to say that you would meet the rest of the family.' Molly was blinking in confusion.

Sherlock huffed and turned to show his back to Molly.

She didn't know if she should laugh or cry. Sherlock Holmes was jealous like hell. She decided to take the long desired shower before continue this conversation. They both needed clearer head.

As Sherlock heard her closing the bathroom door, but not locking it he growled and run his palm on his long face in frustration. He felt like an idiot but couldn't help it. This made him more annoyed.

After coming out from the bathroom Molly sat down on the bed close to Sherlock covered only by a huge fluffy towel.

'Do you want me to come with you?' Molly's voice was small and trembling. Sherlock looked deep into her eyes after searching her face and ran his fingers along her arm what was reaching to his hair. Molly slowly laid down next to him, putting her other hand on his chest.

'That had been my intention when I came.' He swallowed and was not being able to press down the urge to put his other hand on the small of her back and pull her closer. Molly obeyed willingly and shifted as close as she could lifting her chin to kiss Sherlock when he suddenly said, 'However you seemed to get very nervous about your grandmother inviting your ex-boyfriend.' His voice was mocking but Molly recognised he hurt behind his words.

It's…it's a long story, Sherlock.' Molly bent down her head and sighed into Sherlock's shirt.

'We have time enough.' He said in a resigned voice but tightened his hold around Molly not letting her draw away. 'You can tell me or I can deduce…'

'No, no. I prefer to tell you myself. '

Sherlock nodded and waited. A few minute later Molly broke the silence.

'I've already told you that I had spent my summers here as a child. Once, when I was nineteen I came to visit after my first fatigue year in Uni. One day Francesco came with his father to help him. They brought their grapes to sell them to my grandfather. We started to talk. It turned out he had just finished his second year in medical school, we became friends and we continued to keep in touch after I went back to London. Next summer I came he was waiting at the airport with flowers and confessed his love. I was very inexperienced but I knew I felt something very similar to love. We had been together, in a distant relationship for two years when his father died and had to leave the University and begin to be a farmer like his father had been, to be the head of the family. Next summer I came, he proposed, and I said yes. There was no reason not to.' Molly shrugged. 'After I've finished school I applied to Bart's. That winter I came here to Christmas to break up with him.' Molly sighed with guilt and silently shook her head. 'I really let him down, he had a total breakdown, but I couldn't stay like that, it was a lie.' Molly stopped and looked at Sherlock expectantly.

He frowned and Molly could see he was thinking then he finally spoke. 'That was the year we got to know each other.' Recognition appeared in Sherlock's eyes. 'Oh, oooh!' He closed his eyes tightly with a painful grimace. 'It was me, it was always me, wasn't I?' His voice now was warm and low as he looked into her deep brown eyes embarrassed with guilt .

Molly nodded. 'Yes that was the year, and I've never stopped being in love with you since then.' A long silence sat between the two of them. 'And probably never will.' She whispered.

'I've never saw your ring.' Sherlock said with frown thinking back of those times.

'I was wearing it, though.' Molly answered in a low voice, knowing that Sherlock had been too oblivious about her to note anything.

'It seems I have a terrible tendency to have a blind spot on seeing other men's ring on your hand.' He smiled nervously as an apologise waiting for Molly's silent forgiveness for him being an idiot and questioning her.

The forgiveness came as it always had and Molly stretched to kiss him lovingly. He responded immediately and folded both his arms around her to hold this precious gift he had never deserved.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi dear readers, sorry for the long gap, I was tuck with the story a bit, though the last part was written before everything. I hope, you will content with the ending. I think it's fun. Enjoy!**

I'm ready 5

When they finally made their way down to the terrace after several failed endeavour to get out of bed, the whole family was already there, chatting and laughing loudly creating the cheerful chaos they used to.

Sherlock stopped, grabbing Molly's arm to draw her back and leaned down to whisper into her ear.

'We should really leave soon though. I really don't know how long I can hold back.' Molly frowned.

'What do you mean?'

Sherlock sighed rolling his eyes and started to sputter, 'Elena has an affair with the baker, and however her husband doesn't notice because he is too occupied with wooing the waitress from the pizzeria also he had recently lost his car in gambling. Your uncle Giorgio's older son is not his biologically and speaking of him, he is gay, being in quite a difficult situation as he is engaged to the said waitress. The wife of...'

'Stop it. Just stop it.' Molly winced with an awkward chuckle. 'I really don't want to know about any of it.'

'See?'

'You've made yourself quite clear. I've already booked plane tickets for tomorrow afternoon.'

'Ahh, thank God. I'll be very grateful, I promise.' He winked with a mischievous smile and sneaked his arms around her waist completely forgetting about the others.

'Hey, do we need to separate you or you will be able to keep your hands to yourself for a few hours? 'Silvia, wife of Molly's cousin shouted across the table.

Sherlock bent once again to whisper into Molly's ear. 'She likes me and wants to inveigle me to the garage later.'

Molly frowned. 'What? Where the hell do you get that? From the dust on her shoes or what?'

'No, she told me this afternoon.' Sherlock smiled smugly.

'Whoa, we definitely head back to England tomorrow.' Molly shook her head in disbelief and had a seat as far from Silvia as it was possible.

They hardly poured a glass of _aperitivo_, when the guests arrived. Everybody busted into loud ovation and jumped up to greet the newly arrived visitors. Molly quickly turned her head towards them, and a wide smile spread on her face as she saw the couple and a sweet baby girl in Francesco's arms.

Sherlock: John?

John: Hello Sherlock!

Sherlock: Give the phone to Mary.

John: I'm fine, thanks for asking. How things are going with you? Why are you whispering?

Sherlock: (sighs) I am fine. Now give it to Mary.

John: (shouts) Mary, your girlfriend wants to have a chat with you!

Sherlock: (rolls his eyes)

Mary: Hello Sherlock!

Sherlock: I'm not the prototype.

Mary: What?

Sherlock: This Francesco. Old friend of the family and first love of Molly.

Mary: Oh, Sherlock, I've already told you, at this age you can't be her first. (slightly mocking

tone)

Sherlock: Very funny, Mary. If I needed sarcasm I wouldn't ask John to pass you the phone.

Mary: Okay, sorry. Please go on. (with fake seriousness, suppressing a grin)

Sherlock: (sighs) He is tall, dark curly hair; turned up collar... does this remind you of

anybody?

Mary: Hmm, no...wait...no.(chuckles)

Sherlock: Thanks Mary, bye!

Mary: No, no, wait, sorry, don't hung up.

Sherlock: ...(sulking but still there)

Mary: Listen Sherlock, probably she was in love with him about what? Thirteen years ago?

Really? She's been in love with you for ages, helped you fake your death, risked a lot, kept

your secret, broke her engagement after you returned, confessed her feelings for you more

than enough time despite you always being an utter git to her. Are you really jealous of a

childhood romance?

Sherlock: Ex-fiancé.

Mary: The essential part of this word is the 'ex'.

Sherlock: I am not jealous. I merely stated the fact that I'm not the prototype.

Mary: That's all you could catch from what I said?

Sherlock: No.

Mary: And?

Sherlock: You are right. I'm an idiot.

Mary: Yes, thank you. Now, I want juicy details.

Sherlock: (groaning)

Mary: Did you..?

Sherlock: Ye-es.

Mary: How was it?

Sherlock: Good God, Mary!

Mary: Definitely sounds good. (cheerfully)

John: (from the background shouting) Oh let him be, Mary.

Sherlock: Now it's one of the rare occasions when John is right.

Mary: Okay. You've escaped. For now. Give my hugs to Molly.

Sherlock: I definitely will.

Molly: (from the background with yawning) Good morning.

Mary: Morning? It's almost 11pm.

Sherlock: We had a... eventful night. I have to go, I have duties.

Mary: Huh. Now who's the naughty?

Sherlock: ... Beep-beep-beeep


End file.
